


Some Really Quite Bad Matchmaking

by HolyQuiznak01



Series: Ineffable Husbands: Compiled [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bad Matchmaking, Cliched Matchmaking, M/M, Matchmaking, Multi, Pining, really quite ineffective matchmaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-13 07:59:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19247074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyQuiznak01/pseuds/HolyQuiznak01
Summary: Anathema is a level-headed, reasonable girl. However, the patience of level-headed, reasonable girls only goes so far when dealing with a pining angel and a pining demon. Really, what was she to do, other than enlist her hapless partner and the antichrist? Shame that eleven-year-olds really aren't very good matchmakers. Or boys who get a girlfriend through ancient prophecies.





	Some Really Quite Bad Matchmaking

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write a lot of dialogue into my stories, it tends to clog things up. (Not to say that dialogue is a bad thing, it's just not really /my/ thing. The fics I wrote that had a bunch of dialogue did not turn out very well,,)

Newton meekly glanced up as his girlfriend1 slammed the door on her way in.

“That’s it! I can’t deal with this anymore!” Anathema shed her coat aggressively, tossing it towards the couch.

Really, Newton got it.2 Ever since Anathema had begun going out5 with Aziraphale, she had been on edge.

“Deal with what?” 6 He asked, after a couple mutterings of ‘stupid, stupid demon’ and ‘I thought he was intelligent’.

“Aziraphale and Crowley. They are ridiculously in love, and neither of them is doing anything about it. ANYTHING. It’s all ‘oh, he couldn’t possibly love me’ and ‘if he reciprocated, he would’ve said something sooner’. They couldn’t possibly be any denser.” She continued to rant, storming towards the quickly retreating Newt.

Let it be mentioned that Aziraphale and Crowley are a package deal. Even if Crowley didn’t pay much attention to books, he would still show up sometimes.7

Plopping on the couch, she sighed. “I can’t deal with this anymore. At this point, they’re going to die from repressed feelings. Heaven and Hell don’t even need to try to kill them.”

“So, you just need to do a bit of matchmaking?” Newt questioned slowly, an idea starting to dawn on him.8

Anathema looked at him dubiously. She was starting to question whether or not telling her idiot of a boyfriend about this was a good idea.

“That shouldn’t be too hard, should it? I mean, Agnes did it to us through a gap of four centuries.”

“She was a prophetess.” Anathema sighed, smoothing out her skirt. “A witch, you could say. You know, slightly more useful than either of us.” She sat up a bit straighter. An idea hit her. “However....if Adam helps us out." She jumped up. “Alright, we’re getting Adam into this.”

Newton, who had already started to go through his ingrained matchmaking tactics, startled and fell off the couch.

 

 

 

> 1 An actual girlfriend! Really, he couldn’t believe it either.
> 
> 2 Sort-of-got-it. Not-really-got-it. No, he didn’t ‘got it’ at all. He had absolutely no idea of what was going on. 3
> 
> 3 Anathema didn’t blame him. Most people of the male variety were incredibly dense after all. 4
> 
> 4 Unfortunately, this belief greatly stems from the fact that she’s gaining her samples from a Crowley, an Aziraphale and a Newton. It wasn’t very Nice and Accurate, really.
> 
> 5 In a completely platonic way, of course. Crowley wouldn’t stand for anything else. They would mostly just go to a cafe and discuss books with each other.
> 
> 6 Really, poort Newton was a bit dense.
> 
> 7 Most of the time. About nine out of every ten times.
> 
> 8 Oh dear. One of Newton’s little ideas.

“Excuse me, Anathema, but are you actually asking me to help you get Crowley and Aziraphale together?” 1

Anathema nodded with great enthusiasm. Newt felt a bit put out at being ignored, but nodded with her.

Adam blinked and took another cookie. “Why are you even trying to? They’re grownups. A great bit more grown-up than the two of you, really.”

“But they are definitely not very good at dealing with emotions. Do you even know what they're like? Crowley-Crowley kept saying that 'oh surely he would have spoken up if he liked me'." Anathema said, in what was really a quite bad Crowley impersonation. "I do enjoy conversing with Aziraphale, but at this point, I’m really starting to reconsider.” 2

“That does sound a bit difficult.” Adam thought for a second or two. 4

“I thought that matchmaking sounded like an idea.” Newt piped up. “We could, you know, lock them into a closet or something.” 5

“Hmm,” Adam continued to think. “No, I imagine that wouldn’t be very effective. The matchmaking, however, that sounds quite entertaining. We could work with that.”

Newt felt quite a bit chuffed at the recognition. 6

“But first, I need to go get Pepper, Brian and Wensleydale.” Adam stood up, thanking them for the snacks, and ran off to get his friends.

 

 

 

> 1 Anathema and Newton had ran to Adam’s place and pulled him back to Jasmine Cottage. Adam was still just a bit disoriented. Dog was still yapping cheerfully.
> 
> 2 Again, they were a package deal. Crowley tended to rant to3 her whenever Aziraphale was too wrapped up in his books to pay any attention to either of them.
> 
> 3 At.
> 
> 4 Or three or four. The expression wasn’t the most useful.
> 
> 5 He seemed to have forgotten what it was that angels and demons could do exactly.
> 
> 6 Lucifer had been quite charismatic as an angel. And as a demon too, really. Adam had inherited a thing or two. And they weren’t the ‘little hoofy-woofies’.

Somewhere else, an angel and a demon were having a nice lie-in.

“Fancy another wine, angel?” Crowley held out a glass.

“It’s,” Aziraphale glanced at the clock. “-only 2PM, my dear. Not quite a proper time to drink.”

“We’re immortal beings. What’s the point in being an immortal being if you can’t drink whenever you want?” The demon complained, leaning onto the angel.

“Really now, I’m trying to read here.” He pushed Crowley a bit further and continued his book. If it weren’t for his immense concentration, he might have blushed at the proximity. 1 As it was, he’d still flushed lightly, just not enough for the sloshed demon to notice.

“It’s your favourite.” Crowley leaned in again.

Aziraphale just sighed, putting down his book. “Oh alright then, I might as well just help myself.” He accepted the glass and downed it in one go. 2

 

 

 

> 1 Newly realized Feelings were really quite a bother. Especially when they were directed towards the enemy.
> 
> 2 Newly realized feelings were incredibly tedious things. They made even the most rational of men (and women, and non gendered beings) act irrationally. And it is known that Aziraphale isn’t the most rational being ever.

“Men,” Pepper muttered distastefully as Adam and Newt described the plan. “Really, if you believe that ‘matchmaking’ is enough of a plan, I’ve got some news for you.”

Anathema smiled. She really did quite like Pepper after all. A little ball of fire and spirit.

“Well, that’s the point, innit? We need a proper plan.” Adam said, turning back towards his friends. 1

“We know that they’re definitely, both of them in love with the other, yes?” Brian asked.

“ **Absolutely**.”

“Definitely.”

“No doubt.”

Adam, Anathema and Pepper and Newt chorused.

“Well then, couldn’t we just write a letter and sign it with the name of the other?” He continued.

Anathema opened her mouth to object, and then closed it, finding nothing overly wrong or dangerous about it. 2 “Alright then. I suppose there shouldn’t be too much harm in that.”

 

 

 

> 1 There was the slight question of whether or not the other Them knew of their true identities, wondered by everyone save Adam. And the Them.
> 
> 2 How were they to know that Aziraphale and Crowley had a mutual arrangement 3 that included not writing letters anymore? 4
> 
> 3 Not capital Arrangement. Lowercase arrangement.
> 
> 4 The story involved a few spies and a bit of a tie up. It wasn’t pleasant, not for anyone involved. Angels and demons had a bad habit of signing their real names.

“Crowley.”

“Ngh.” 1

“This is important. Someone could be taking your identity.” Aziraphale hissed. 4

“Mngk?” The demon didn’t seem to particularly want to get up.

“Well, unless you decided to write me a letter after a century of no letter-writing and finally get over your habit of signing your real name.” The angel tapped his foot against the floor.

“Patience is a virtue, angel. I’ll deal with it when I get up.”

“A love letter.” Aziraphale continued, picking the letter up again.

Crowley shot up 5 and jumped to snatch the letter. “A what now?”

“Do you have anything to tell me?” He glanced at the panicked demon, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Erm. That I didn’t write this?” Crowley tried to will down the blush. This was definitely how he wanted to reveal his quite painful pining attitude towards the angel.

Aziraphale felt a slight pang of disappointment, despite already having known the letter wasn’t from Crowley. 6

“So who would decide to fake my identity just to write you a love letter?” He cleared his throat, consciously trying to keep from burning the damn thing.

“Oh, I don’t know, one of those silly people hanging around the bookstore these days?”

“You were the one who raised this as an emergency.” The demon pointed out.

“It got you out of bed, didn’t it?” Aziraphale lifted the teacup he’d brought in. “Tea, my dear?”

“You should be grateful I even fell asleep on your bed. It’s the most bloody uncomfortable thing ever.” He accepted the tea and leaned against a wall. “We need to go get you a new bed.”

There was a slight silence, and a mutual agreement to avoid thinking of the ‘we’.

 

 

 

> 1 Crowley tended to overstay2 his time after Apocawasn’t. Therefore, he is currently asleep in Aziraphale’s relatively unused bed. 3
> 
> 2 It wasn’t really overstaying if both of them were amenable to the idea, was it?
> 
> 3 And also currently unoccupied by the angel.
> 
> 4 Not hiss hissed. Just, whispered scoff hiss. Snake hissing is for Crowley after all.
> 
> 5 And banged his head against the bedframe, not that Aziraphale had noticed.
> 
> 6 The heart works in ineffable ways.

“Well, that didn’t work,” Brian commented. 1

“To be fair, it really wasn’t the best idea,” Pepper said, picking at the mud on her clothes. “It would have been better if we’d had Adam call and force them to chaperone a school trip or something. Or do something for one of us.”

“Like bake cookies!” Wensleydale, ever the rational2 one, piped up.

“Or, and I’ve no idea why we hadn’t thought of this, but we could lock them in an indestructible closet with Adam’s powers!” Brian mimed an explosion, which none of them bothered to point out had nothing to do with what he was saying.

Newton rolled his eyes,3 and crossed his arms.

Had Anathema felt slightly more coherent, she would have pointed out the issue, which was that being locked in a dark room together did not ensure a confession. Unfortunately, or fortunately, she was too Tired of Their Pining™, and therefore didn’t think of the issue.

The group cheered and left to head back to the bookshop.

 

 

 

> 1 Adam had broken into the bookstore to spy on them. Why he hadn’t been caught was probably because of his antichrist powers. No one bothered questioning it.
> 
> 2 Some people would call it being boring. Good thing none of his friends think that.
> 
> 3 Well, mentally, at the very least.

The angel and demon were decidedly  _not_  bed-shopping. That’s what they had originally set off to do, and would be doing, had they not gotten distracted.

“Angel,  _angel_ , look!” Crowley nudged Aziraphale and pointed in the direction of a tired-looking young man, who was now approaching a comfortable-looking bed. But, as soon as he lied on the newest bed, it began to envelop him. The young man didn’t even notice. He’d just muttered a little “Oh, this one’s soft” and lied back into it.

Crowley frowned a little at the idea of his wiles going wrong.1

Aziraphale just smiled at the scene and Crowley. 

“Yes, yes, I know.  _Evil always contains the seeds of its own destruction_  and all.” The demon rolled his eyes and played the same trick on a businessman trying to hit on an employee. 2

“Actually, I was only going to say that it seemed like he’d quite enjoyed it.” Said Aziraphale, who had been thinking more along the lines of how much he’d like to snog the demon.

Crowley, who was also thoroughly smitten with the angel, thanked Satan his sunglasses covered up any  _hypothetical_  emotions he may be feeling. 

The two of them resumed bed-shopping. 

 

 

 

> 1 Crowley liked to think himself a successful wiler, but in reality, all he did was commit petty pranks.
> 
> 2 He was a demon, not a  _monster_.

Meanwhile, the Them and company were waiting for the pair to go back to the shop, which had a ‘Closed-indefinitely’ sign on it.

“You’re sure you can’t find out where they are?” Brian, who was bored and wanted to put his plan into action, asked Adam.

“I can’t do  _everything_ , you know,” Adam said, still dutifully looking out for any sign of Aziraphale and Crowley.

Meanwhile, Anathema was starting to think reasonably again, and posed a Very Important Question. “How do we get them into a closet in the first place? Besides, are you even  _sure_  they have a bookcase?”

Pepper nodded supportively, being fed up with having to wait around. The rest of the Them looked at each other.

* * *

Newton sat back down, handing Anathema a cup of coffee and sipping his own.

“This is ridiculous.” Pepper kicked her legs and leaned back. “Couldn’t Anathema just tell them to confess?”

The witch sighed and face planted. “I’ve  _tried_  to do that _so many times_.” She mumbled into the table.1

Adam sat up straighter as an idea hit him. “Isn’t it almost Christmas?”

The others stared at him in confusion. 

“What does that have anything to do with the business of matchmaking?” Wensleydale asked.

Newton brightened. “Oh, did you mean-” The rest of his answer was drowned out by a commotion in the shop. 

It was, indeed, a week before Christmas.

 

 

 

> 1 She had, indeed, tried. Both directly and indirectly. But apparently ‘I am  _absolutely certain_ he likes you back’ was still too subtle to work.

Crowley and Aziraphale, who had just headed out of the shop, were expecting it to be any other day.

First, they had gone to the theatre to see a movie.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea, my dear.” The angel fretted. “I really don’t want this to be a repeat of The Great Gadsby.” 1

“It’s not a book adaptation this time. You’ll be  _fine_.” Crowley sighed. He had definitely learned his lesson from the last time they’d gone to the movies.

The ticket booth person2 cleared their throat. “What are you here to see?”

“ _Mama_ ,” Crowley said and, at the angel’s look, pulled out3 some money to hand over.

As they walked off with their tickets, the teenager called out after them “The two of you make a cute couple!” 4

Crowley turned back around to correct him, but the next customer had already stepped up. He glanced at Aziraphale, who, luckily, didn’t seem to have heard the comment5 and was immersed in a book.

The demon sighed at his antics. Who brought a bloody  _book_  to see a movie?

“I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to ruin your experience of the movie.” Aziraphale huffed, noticing Crowley’s sigh.

“You’re being  _ridiculous_.”

 

 

 

> 1 The last time Crowley had taken Aziraphale to see a movie, Aziraphale had hated it and almost vapourized the entire production team.
> 
> 2 In this context, the reader is to assume that Crowley does not know what they are called, and it is not the native-English speaking writer who does not know the term.
> 
> 3 It was miracled, and both of them knew it. 
> 
> 4 They were actually Newton, and Adam had pulled a few strings with the universe to get him a temporary job. Aziraphale and Crowley just happened to be too immersed in each other to recognize him.
> 
> 5 He had. 

* * *

Newton sighed and walked off.

“It was worth a try. We weren’t expecting anything out of it anyway.”

* * *

 

“Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Aziraphale said, delighted.

“I did tell you that not all movies were terrible and ‘destined for Hell’, angel.” 

Aziraphale blushed. “I might have exaggerated a little.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “A  _little_? You said-”

“I know what I said.” The angel cut in. Crowley just raised his other eyebrow, teasingly.

The two of them walked in companionable silence for a while, heading to the Ritz without needing to say ‘would you like to dine at the Ritz?’. They had spent too much time together to need that. The passing of the Armagedidn’t-happen had resulted in two seeing each other often enough that Crowley had plans, for the first time in his life, for dinner every Sunday.

At the Ritz, they were greeted by a familiar looking waitress. 1

“Table for two? Well aren’t the two of ya lucky, there’s just one table free, even though it’s Christmas!” 2 She gestured dramatically towards a secluded area.  


As soon as they’d settled in, the waitress brought in a large candle. 3 

“For you two li’l lovebirds, on the house.” She winked. 4

The two of them sat speechless for a while. Aziraphale would have corrected her, but he was too busy feeling the urge to be swallowed up by the ground.

“What  _is it_  with the British population today?” He heard Crowley mutter something else.

“What was that, my dear?” He questioned, leaning in. Crowley looked a little pink.

“Nothing.”

The waitress came back and began to hover. “Are you ready to order yet?”

“I’ll have the Hay-Aged Bresse Duck, thank you, dear.” 

"And the 2006 Chevalier-Montrachet as well.” Crowley settled back comfortably. 5

The waitress heads back, but not before winking again.

Crowley wanted to scream. Out of all the  _ridiculous_ things he could have ordered, he was pressured into choosing  _oysters_? 6

Aziraphale didn’t seem to have caught onto the innuendo and continued to peacefully eat.

Anathema practically beamed as she headed back to where Adam was hiding.

“Not even  _they_  can be this dense.”

Adam was smart enough to not point out her maniac cackling and rubbing of her hands.

Aziraphale and Crowley spent the rest of their lunch trying not to flush at the repeated insinuations. Luckily, or unluckily, they were both too flustered to notice the other’s embarrassment.

 

 

 

> 1 Anathema had decided to take things into her own hands and gotten her hands on an orange wig.
> 
> 2 She’d also changed the way she spoke. It wasn’t necessarily an accent as much as it was bizarre.
> 
> 3 The lights in the shop just  _happened_ to have dimmed just for the evening. It was all very curious, considering the lights weren’t the dimming type.
> 
> 4 Anathema was internally wincing.
> 
> 5 In reality, he was incredibly tense.
> 
> 6 It was a great example of a freudian slip.

* * *

Anathema collapsed in a bench outside the shop. Adam patted her shoulder reassuringly.

“We still have our final plan anyway.”

* * *

“Oh look, it’s snowing again,” Crowley muttered, stepping closer to Aziraphale.

“Wasn’t snow one of your ideas?”

Crowley ducked further into his coat. “Just walk  _faster_.”

Aziraphale smiled and linked arms with Crowley.1 “I, myself, am quite fain a nice hot cup of tea.”

The long-suffering demon just sighed in response. 2

Upon reaching the bookshop, Aziraphale was the one who seemed to be drifting to sleep.3

“Uh, angel-” Crowley poked Aziraphale, sounding a little strangled. “Did you, um, redecorate?”

“ _Redecorate?_ Of course  _not_.” The angel shot awake, brimming with indignation. “Why would I  _ever_  want to- oh. Oh  _dear_.” 

The reason why the two of them had stopped was because of:

A) The gigantic sprig of mistletoe hanging above the shop.

B) The romantic dinner that was set, visible from just outside the shop.

Seeing as these particular ethereal and occult beings were just tipsy enough, neither of them registered that the kiss under the mistletoe wasn’t a  _real_ obligation.4

“Well, um, that’s a bit-”

“We don’t  _actually_ have to if it makes you uncomfortable-” 

“What harm what it do?” Aziraphale shrugged, leaning more into Crowley.

Crowley looked down at the angel and considered the pros and cons of kissing his best friend, who he had also been in love with for 6000 years. He shrugged. “I don’t suppose there’ll be much harm.” 7

They kissed.8 There were no trumpets or angelic choirs, no fireworks or explosion of light.9 There was, however, a soft feeling that enveloped both of them.

“Well.” Said Crowley, who was feeling quite sated, but also a bit confused. “That happened. Fancy some more alcohol?”

“That sounds lovely, my dear.” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hand, smiling back.

 

 

 

> 1 It was possible the two of them had a bit too much wine during lunch.
> 
> 2 It was also possible that Crowley wasn’t as drunk as Aziraphale.
> 
> 3 The end of Armageddon also brought a new habit of sleeping upon Aziraphale; possibly due to 6000 years of constant fretting.
> 
> 4 Adam may have made sure they drank enough wine, despite Aziraphale’s habit of not getting drunk before 8PM in whatever region he was in.5
> 
> 5 The habit was more of a goal. Crowley usually tempted him into drinking a lot earlier.
> 
> 6 It was also possible that the both of them did want to kiss each other. 
> 
> 7 Adam was  _very_  glad he’d made sure they were drunk.
> 
> 8 The attentive reader may have realized that the two hadn’t moved since seeing the mistletoe. They are, in fact, snogging in the middle of a road.
> 
> 9 There  _were_  honking cars and cat calls, and somewhere closeby, excited screaming.

**Author's Note:**

> See, I rarely go to the theatre to see movies. I don't know how it works. I'm very sorry. Also, if there are any mistakes, I'm sorry, I'm not British and don't have a Brit-picker. I also don't drink wine, and the food is all pulled off from the online Ritz menu.
> 
> Edit: LittleUggie brought to my attention that I said they weren't going to see a book adaptation.  
> ...And then immediately after that line, my mind goes 'you know what's absolutely not based off a book? Tolkien'. So yeah, thank you for pointing that out!


End file.
